White Sands
The even white sand stretched out eternally into endless night. A subtle wind brushed over valleys and carved snaking lines of ridges, but nothing moved. Normally a desert was defined by its lack of water, and subsequent lack of life. But there was life here. Teaming beneath the surface in an unseen world. But not everywhere in Hueco Mundo was so rich. Some places there was nothing but rock or sand. But here the petrified gossamer limbs of trees protruded from the surface of the desert, marking the vast area of the Forest of Menos. And here, a lone figure could be seen making his way across the sands. He moved slowly, his turban wrapped around his face so only his eyes were exposed, and prodded at the ground with the blade of his weapon— a Guandao. In the World of the Living, he could have easily resembled a hunter or a nomad scratching out a hardscrabble existence in a hostile environment. But he was not a human, and was completely at home here in the desert. Humans also did not hunt for subterranean monsters to eat. The Hollow moved to another location and again poked at the sand with his blade. He paused, listened, and moved on. Stopping to cast his gaze at the horizon, he could make out the delicate white towers of Las Noches against the sky, and his eyes narrowed before he continued with the task at hand. He was an Espada, but bore no love for his so-called “compadres,” for Runuganga was a simple creature. He existed only to exist, and to fill the endless hunger that seemed to consume him daily. There, something was pushing through the sand. He could sense it through his feet, and from what he could tell the Hollow that was making so many vibrations was a large one. This pleased him. But as he approached its location cautiously, being sure to move with as little disturbance as possible across the ground, he realized it was not so large as he had thought. It was a scorpion-type creature about the length of his forearm, although doubtless Runuganga simply identified it as “small meal” as he had no frame of reference for the arachnids that resided in the human world. It was currently trying to burrow its way into the base of the tree. With an air of disinterest he simply walked over and drove his Guandao into the ground before removing the skewered and squirming creature. “Ay, but you are a poor mazo.” he murmured to the dying Hollow. But it would suffice as a snack, he decided, and found a small hill on which to enjoy his food while continuing to scan the land around him. As always, Runuganga possessed a shifty and suspicious gaze, and scanning the land in the opposite direction of Las Noches, he spotted a glint of what appeared to be metal somewhere in the depths of vast distance. He did not move at once, but his curiosity was of course peaked. Instead he chewed thoughtfully on one of the scorpion’s legs and began to mutter to himself. “Ay, but it could be valuable.” he mused. “Es así, but too far to tell if it’s a threat… but what is a threat? Nothing is a threat… Ja, this is mierda. Anything could be a threat. Do you have rocks in your head?” The solitary conversation continued for sometime until at last Runuganga had finished eating. He stood, stretched, and rewrapped his scarf over his face before grabbing his Guandao. Swinging the heavy weapon back and forth casually, he started in the direction of the unknown object. --- Zabi was the typical sort of Arrancar, haughty, and ambitious with a dash of cruelty mixed with a little bit of brutality, seasoned with a lust for blood, battle and physical gratification all wrapped into one specimen of perfection. He's slaughtered hundreds if not thousands of souls, betrayed those whom considered him ally and clawed over the corpses of those who never saw him coming. He had lived for centuries, seen much, done so much more, yet at this moment all of those experiences, all of his vaunted power meant absolutely nothing to the threat he now faced. Before he could ponder his situation anymore a thin white beam of light lanced over his head, forcing him to duck. Roaring in frustration turned, thrusting his hand outward shouting in defiance as he released a barrage of crimson light, sweeping the horizon in a cascade of red light, and carpeting the white dunes in a staccato of explosions. Without sparing another glance, he surged forward in a burst of speed, losing himself in the booming static of sonido. He took maybe one or two steps before he felt a calloused hand grab him by the head and drag him to the ground, impacting with a resounding crack. The sudden deceleration caused him to bounce and skid across the white sands like a rag-doll. He slammed into the ground with a meaty thud, before his entire body went rigid as chains of light emerged from the ground beneath him, snaking around his limbs and trapping him where he lay. There hovering on... a hover-board? He blinked in surprise, he was pretty sure humans hadn't gone that far in technology yet. The youth sitting atop the technological wonder hopped off the construct which dissipated into light, walking with all the casual grace of predator. Zabi knew that this was the moment where his life would end. But dammit, he wasn't going to give this... Quincy the satisfaction of seeing him beg for his life. The Quincy stopped just a few shy of him, with his penetrating gaze casting judgement on him. "Return to me what you stole." This was it, this is where he dies, this is ... what the!? He blinked once, then twice then stared incredulously at the Quincy. "Come again?" He choked out. The Quincy gave an irritated huff, annoyed at having to repeat himself. "The device that you stole, return it. Now." The boy's voice carried over him and his mind racked with trying to understand just what the hell he was ... oh... oh no... he couldn't possibly mean? As if reading his mind, the boy merely nodded in affirmation. "You mean to tell me, that you tracked me in the Human World, chased me through the Garganta, and hunted me all across the sands of Hueco Mundo, for a Nintendeo XDS!" He roared spraying blood and spittle. His entire body shook with rage at the sheer lunacy of the entire situation. "Of course. As you know stealing is wrong, and I did not believe that you would learn this lesson if I did not admonish you properly." The Quincy said in a matter-of-fact fashion. "As if you humans should be the only ones with a monopoly on entertainment!" He spat. Just as he was about to give this crazy Quincy a piece of his mind, his senses were suddenly drowned by an enormous pressure. A familiar pressure, a power attributed the strongest Hollows in all of Hueco Mundo. Espada. He looked to the boy who likewise felt that insane power as well. Without so much as a glance, the chains of light dissolved out of existence, leaving him free. He sat there in shock for but a moment, before he remembered that death was approaching. Channeling every ounce of power into his body he performed the fastest sonido he'd ever done in his life. Let the boy deal with one of those monsters. In the meantime, he was going to enjoy a good long session of the latest Pokemon game. --- Runuganga’s was a strange Reiatsu. It travelled with him, encircling him in a ward of pressure of which he himself was unaware. It was not penetrating or fluctuating, and in fact may have not even presented any form of palpable threat. But it was vast and subtle, spread evenly across a wide area and infused within the ground like a shadow. It had the effect of crushing or suffocating those around him; but strangely, as he grew nearer and nearer, it seemed as though suddenly the wall passed over completely, and there was a tranquil, if eerie, calm. The Hollow himself did not appear at once, but his curiosity was insatiable. While he could sense the human before him quite clearly through the sand, he wanted to see him with his own eyes. There was a small gust of wind that picked up a veil of sand and carried it across the crest of a hill, and when it cleared Runuganga was there. He stared down at the Quincy— for he was a Quincy, with immutable yellow eyes. He absolutely despised Quincy. He remembered events now long faded in years gone by. How many? Time was irrelevant to him. But he distinctly remembered the pain they had caused him, how they had driven him in fear to hide beneath the sands, quivering lest he be discovered and eradicated. And even now he could feel his innate fear churning in the pit of his stomach, and combined with the fact that he was still hungry, this made him more than irritable. He wanted nothing more than to pull the Quincy under the sand, to drown him and crush him and feast on his dispersed blood. But he was a coward at heart, and would not recklessly charge an opponent whose strength was unknown. He stood from where he had been crouching, slowly, and pointed the tip of his Guandao at the boy below. “Bueno. First, allow me a question, chaval. Who are you and for why are you here? Second, which would you prefer? A sandwich, or... a sandwich?” "Six." Was the immediate reply. A brief period of silence followed as Runuganga gave the Quincy a questioning look. Comprehension dawns on the Quincy when he realizes that he had spoken aloud. "You are the sixth Arrancar I've met who actually uses Spanish in his vernacular rather than it being a gimmick for naming your techniques." He explained. "As for your question, its hunting season, and I'm the hunter." To emphasize his point he gestured to the air, and with a thought motes of reishi and spirit particles illuminated all around them before rapidly gathering and condensing into the form of a large bow, equal to the Quincy in height. The Quincy smirked. "So why don't you be a good little rabbit and run to make this interesting." Before me is a being who has several times my maximum power, and I baited him. I have just committed suicide and he is the knife to my wrist. He thought warily, but outwardly he maintained his cocky persona. The confusion cleared from Runuganga’s gaze upon sight of the Quincy’s spirit weapon, and instead widened in a heightened state of awareness. He wanted nothing more to rush forward and smother the upstart child standing before him, but there was one, glaringly erroneous fact that must be corrected first, at all costs. “No, no, no,” he said, shaking his head, “You are mistaken, vaquero. You need to understand a pobre fact, así es, only I am considered to be a hunter here. Claro? That is to say, I am the master of this desert, understand? All that you can see here is under my control. If you want to call yourself a “hunter,” we need to prove it with a contest of power.” he paused as something seemed to dawn upon him, “Ah, and also, there are no rabbits in these parts, much too arid.” Ryuichi quirks an eyebrow. "I'm fairly certain that the other Espada would contest that claim. Also, I'm pretty sure my people have been hunting Hollows for the past thousand years or so. If you want to contest that, then why not." But he felt like there was something he was forgetting, some minor detail that was overlooked. His face has that look of 'eureka' and then gets contemplative again. "No, there are rabbits. Ten years ago, an anthropomorphic rabbit Arrancar raided Karakura town. For someone who claims that he is the ruler of this desert, you are woefully ill informed of its happenings. How embarrassing, a hunter who doesn't even the know the history of his own hunting grounds." “Who told you I was an Espada, chaval?” he growled. “Es así, could it be that you do not know who I am? Well, allow me to illuminate you: I am the ruler of the storm, lord of the wind, and god of the white sand!" he gestured dramatically as he spoke, swinging his Guandao around to encompass the area around him, to speak of his territorial reign. “And as for rabbits, there is such a mazo of prey here, I do not recall every pitiful being to cross this land’s surface. Lo cual, they are weak and inconsequential, like you chaval. I will only allow myself to be concerned with that which is at least substantial enough to make a sandwich.” he said derisively as he sized up the Quincy’s slight frame. “Bueno. Now that you know of this, do you still wish to challenge me? If you do I will only say, sadly, that you had rocks in your head and that it could not be helped that you perished so easily... eso, these sands are dangerous indeed.” Ryuichi tilted his head questioningly at the Arrancar. "The absurdly high spiritual power was my first indication. The second was that no Arrancar is given a territory without the consent of the Espada." He gazed at the horizon towards Las Noches. "Which means you are either an underling, which is doubtful given your power. Or you are one of the reigning Espada and have claimed this area for yourself." Returning his stare at the Arrancar he smirks. "It's called deductive reasoning, a wonderful little human invention, you should try it sometime. Then you might have realized that I've already begun the hunt. Chatting you up was just buying time." He gave a smug look to the Arrancar before leaping off into the distance. Raising his arm he tapped at his watch which brought up a holographic heads up display; an overlay map of their region. In its northwestern corner, a small dot blinked as it moved westward. Sparing the Arrancar another glance, Ryuichi let his spiritual senses envelop his mind and instantly he felt his world sharpen with clarity. He could feel the subtle ebb and flow of reishi that permeated throughout Hueco Mundo. Cold and dark like the void of space, the emptiness he felt that touched upon his skin felt hollow... wrong. Ignoring the uncomfortable senstation he hastened his pace, hoping to close the distance with his prey before the Espada mount a defense. Weaving a few hand signs he let his will flow out and the Hueco Mundo obeyed. The ambient reishi arose from the sands in diminutive motes of light before rapidly gathering in a spiral. Once the density had reached its zenith, the white sands of Hueco Mundo became bathed in azure flame, as a veritable wall of fire spread out. A mild impediment to be sure, but it would be enough to give him the time he needs. Extending his senses out, he felt a presence at the edge of his spiritual awareness. Excellent, he thought. Forming the spiritual bow in his right hand he sped towards his prize. Runuganga simply stared with a chilling light in his eyes as the wall of blue fire circled him and shot into the sky. The Quincy had slipped away, it seemed, leaving him to deal with the inferno. He was more cautious than usual as he seemed to wait silently for a moment, analyzing the barrier before him. While his opponent may have been unaware of it, fire was one of his weaknesses, and he was not so unintelligent or reckless that he would simply throw himself heedlessly into a furnace. “Veo,” Runuganga snarled. “It seems you’re the worst kind of coward.” Of course in his mind, the worst cowards were Quincy, and coupled with the boy’s current tactics, his opinion of his adversary lowered even further. He swung his weapon around easily, digging the blade in through the sand as he propelled it upwards in a wide, elegant arc. The metal flashed in the moonlight, and a wall of white shot towards the obstacle. The sand managed to douse the flames, splitting the fire apart in a glowing blue canyon, and Runuganga slipped through the instant before it rushed closed again. He focused his attention on the fleeing Quincy. At first he considered throwing himself across the barren surface of Hueco Mundo and attacking him directly. But then he remembered that the human had said something about a “hunt”, and his eyes narrowed. Gradually, realization dawned on him, and he chuckled aloud. “¡Que guay!” he exclaimed. Although it may have taken him a moment, he had at last pinpointed a particular sort of Hollow that was headed fast in a westward direction. The Quincy was in hot pursuit. “So you want to part the bread? However, it won’t be as easy as you think, vaquero.” Both of his targets happened to be bypassing an area of relatively soft earth that serviced as the roof for a deep crevice beneath the sands. It was a nest, dense with black, barely sentient creatures writhing in the darkness and waiting for frail life to fall into their mouths. Menos Grande. Runuganga spun his Guandao around and plunged the tip deep into the sand. There was a ripple across the surface of the desert responded to his projected Reiatsu. The vibrations hit the thin roof of the forest, and the ground caved in without warning. A vast chasm opened up to the sky, cascades of sand draining away over the precipice. A ghastly howl reverberated through the night, and hands of bone reached up from the hole. The Espada straightened up, and with a forceful blast of wind and a crack of thunder had disappeared. Weaving his way across the land, he at last appeared before the edge of the cliff he had created and glanced over the mass of blank masks staring up at him from below. He gave an approving nod and, thrusting his weapon into the ground for a moment, extended both hands over the Menos. For a moment nothing happened, but then his forearms began to shake, ever so slightly. But by then Hueco Mundo itself seemed to respond to his silent command. Powerfully, painfully, from the depths of the subterranean forest a dome of sand pushed upwards, and it birthed a horde of towering grotesque giants. Runuganga smirked. The Quincy should be near by now. And when he did reach that expansive stretch of desert he would encounter a living wall of Menos Grande. Runuganga had managed to out-maneuver him, but not via speed. He had simply exerted his control over an immense distance to catch the Quincy off guard. In the meantime, he would make his own way towards the lapin Hollow. The poor creature had no chance of escape. Runuganga laughed, once, before taking to the sky with a few booming steps of Sonido.